Fecundity
by trollnexus
Summary: Mrs Zabini loves her son, but he's always so busy with his barrister job. So what else can she do but get a pet? Blaise is unhappy about the newest member of the family, though.


**Title**: Fecundity

**Disclaimer**: Even though Mrs Zabini doesn't even get any face-time in canon other than a short mention, I still do not own her. And I definitely do not own anything else in the Harry Potter universe.

**Pairings**: Well, there's one, but it's off-screen, so I'm not going to bother mentioning it here. Surprise?

**Rating**: T. I'm kind of pushing it, but damn it I'd totally let my teenage kids read this kind of thing.

**Warnings**: Inside jokes, mentions of sex (but nothing descriptive, just more like "so-and-so had sex that other time"), mild swearing.

**Summary**: Mrs Zabini loves her son, but he's always so busy with his barrister job. So what else can she do but get a pet? Blaise is unhappy about the newest member of the family, though.

**Word Count**: 3,075

**Prompts**: Dialogue: "I never should have mentioned it," "We were, weren't we?"

**Author's Note**: This was written for the Semi Finals of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.

Right off the bat, let me thank my captain Mark Geoffrey Norrish for unwittingly providing me with the premise, my best friend Zhi Jun for encouraging me to go with his idea even though he totally didn't intend for me to actually do this, and my darling Beater partner MaryRoyale for letting me connect my story to hers, which is called "Love Stinks." You don't have to read that one to understand this one, but dear god you totally should. Her writing is always worth reading.

Also, shout-out to my team in general, the Falmouth Falcons! We've been doing this competition since...July, I think? Thank you all for sticking around and generally being fun to work with. Although sometimes I just want to set all my writing on fire, the thought of being part of our wonderful and supportive team keeps me sane.

This story is pretty much the silliest thing I've written in a long time. I had a great time putting this together, even though I really am swamped with school work at the moment. "Fecundity" means the intellectual productivity of a creative imagination, as well as fertility. I have my reasons for choosing such a title, but that's another inside joke, I'm afraid.

My competition prompt was to write about a minor character who has less than 200 stories on FFN and her relationship with her family, hence me blathering on about parents and children and a pet. I actually enjoyed writing these interactions, though; I've always liked the idea of Blaise and his mother. I did try to refrain from being Oedipal here, though, I promise.

Anyway, final message, for the reviewer who signs as "Carling": Thank you so much for reading and reviewing a whole bunch of my stories recently. I do wish you had an account so I could express my gratitude in an inbox, but alas I'll make do with what I've got. I really do appreciate your comments, both the gushing and the critical ones, for they help me figure out what I need to improve on as a writer. Yeah, I do have a couple of older stories that now make me cringe to think about, and I do not have the same feelings now that I did back in those older A/N's, but I'm glad you read through it all and gave me your honest opinion about all of it. I do hope to write more Drarry soon, but right now I'm just too busy to write for anything but this competition, so I hope you'll bear with me for now. :3

On with the story.

* * *

_Fecundity_

"Children are the most ungrateful creatures ever known to mankind, Alora," declared Mrs Bulstrode the moment Mrs Zabini opened the door.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Catriona. Please, do make yourself at home," said Mrs Zabini sarcastically, stepping aside. By now, she was used to Mrs Bulstrode showing up unannounced, but just because she was used to it didn't mean she had to like it.

Mrs Bulstrode casually tossed her cloak onto the rack on the side, and the cloth fell perfectly onto the hook. Mrs Zabini rolled her eyes even as she followed Mrs Bulstrode into the living room; even inanimate objects obeyed Catriona's every whim.

Alora snapped her fingers, and she felt a caress on the back of her hand that told her the house-elves had received her order. By the time they reached the living room, there would be tea and cakes ready. The house-elves were used to Mrs Bulstrode's unannounced visits, too.

Mrs Bulstrode rushed excitedly towards the cake tray the moment she saw it from the living room doorway, and Mrs Zabini could not help but smile. There was just something about this house that made its guests relax and behave honestly. Pretensions were not allowed in the Zabini household, and perhaps this was why Catriona always found some excuse to visit. Alora didn't seriously mind; she was not currently dating anyone, and her son was much too busy with his barrister job to indulge in idle chitchat with his own mother, so a friend didn't hurt, even if it _was_ this silly woman currently eating all her cakes.

Mrs Zabini calmly poured them both a cup of tea, setting Mrs Bulstrode's cup in front of her.

"Now, now, Catriona. What has Millicent done this time?"

Mrs Bulstrode sniffed. "I have not seen her for days. She is always working odd hours, sometimes arriving home at three in the morning just to bathe, and then she leaves again without a single word of greeting. Then today, out of concern for her health, I decided to Firecall her office, only to have her tell me, 'Mother, I am too busy to listen to your nagging right now,' in such a cold tone!"

Mrs Zabini hastily snapped her fingers again to signal for another tray of cakes. "I am sure she is simply stressed out from her job, Catriona. It is probably not personal, and you should expect to receive an apology from her once her workload eases off a bit. Is that not what usually happens?"

"Humph," grumbled Mrs Bulstrode as she bit into a strawberry that had adorned one of the cakes. "Maybe that is the case with your son, but Millie never apologises. Half the time she is not even aware that she has offended me."

"And whose fault is that? If you already know she is oblivious to your feelings, then should you not send a letter explicitly outlining said feelings?"

"What if she does not even deign to read it?"

"Then you can rightfully say that the fault lies with her and demand compensation accordingly, my dear."

Mrs Bulstrode sniffed again, but Mrs Zabini could see she was calming down. "I shall do so after this visit, then."

Mrs Zabini was about to smile and say some more comforting phrases when the doorbell rang. "Ah, please excuse me, Catriona," she said as she stood up.

Before the war, it had been the norm to let the house-elves open the door, but now Mrs Zabini was much more cautious about her image. The general public sentiment was currently unfavourable towards those who used house-elves, so she did not want to risk having a house-elf open the door for someone who would disapprove. Besides, she rather liked greeting the people on the other side of the door; it made her feel more in control of the situation, especially whenever the other person's breath would catch upon seeing her. After all these years, she was still beautiful.

"H-Hullo," said the man on her doorstep when she opened the door. "Delivery from Magical Menagerie."

She beamed at him, and he blushed. "Oh! Thank you so much, my dear." She took the box from him, marvelling at how light it felt. "I suppose the care instructions are also inside the box?"

"Oh! No, surely not!" He fumbled around in his coat and pulled out a roll of parchment. "Here you go. Also, do you mind signing here?" He produced another sheet and a quill after she took the roll from him. She signed accordingly.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for your patronage." He Disapparated, and she smiled at the space he once occupied. Ah, what a shame he was so jittery. She could have had some fun.

As Alora re-entered the living room with the box, Mrs Bulstrode raised her eyebrows.

"What is that?"

Mrs Zabini smiled. "This, my dear, is the newest addition to the Zabini family."

Mrs Bulstrode stood up and made her way over to the box. "Do you mind if I open it?"

"Go ahead. Be my guest."

So Mrs Bulstrode removed the lid from the box.

The next several minutes were filled with Catriona's screams and Alora's laughter.

* * *

"Honestly, Alora, you are going to give me a heart attack one day," said Mrs Bulstrode reproachfully as she retrieved her cloak by the front door.

"Well, if it is any consolation, I will definitely take care of your funeral expenses if that should happen, so your darling husband does not have to worry."

Mrs Bulstrode eyed the scream-inducing pet, who was currently cradled in Mrs Zabini's arms. "Do you really have to carry that creature around with you? Surely it can walk on its own."

"I know, but sometimes I want to cuddle."

"Surely that is the function of a lover."

Mrs Zabini cooed at the creature and kissed its head. "Well, you know my luck in the romance department," she muttered against the creature's soft skin.

Mrs Bulstrode rolled her eyes. "That is because you insist on marrying old geezers who are close to kicking the bucket."

"What can I say? They appreciate me the most."

Mrs Bulstrode shook her head and fastened her cloak. "Nonetheless, I really should get going. I have many errands to run, and I am sure _your_ child will be arriving home soon. Thank you for your hospitality, Alora. I always appreciate it."

Mrs Zabini made a face at her frank words, and Mrs Bulstrode laughed before opening the door and walking out.

Right before Mrs Bulstrode Disapparated, Mrs Zabini could see her shoulders stiffening and her posture straightening. That was the usual effect of leaving the Zabini abode; all the formality rushed back once one stepped away from the door. Perhaps later on, Catriona will even question why she had acted so freely in front of Alora, only to conclude that it must have been something about Alora's natural charm.

Mrs Zabini closed the door to hide her smile. She loved magic for a reason.

"Now, come on, my little dear," she whispered to her new pet as she walked towards the kitchens. "Let us figure out what you like to eat."

* * *

About an hour later, Mrs Zabini was in the middle of giving her pet a bath. Upon closer inspection, she could easily understand Mrs Bulstrode's reaction. It was not exactly a pretty creature—it had a long body, pale skin, one eye, and furry, bulbous hind legs. People already freaked out when they saw a hairless cat; seeing a mostly hairless—whatever it was—probably wasn't any better.

Regardless, Mrs Zabini had been really excited about owning it the moment she had seen it in the catalogue. Not only was it rare, but it was a direct descendant of the Cyclopes, and she had always liked the mythology around the Cyclopes. As a race, they had been strong and skilled with their hands, creating thunder and lightning, for example. They were so powerful that Uranus had locked them away out of fear, but then—

The door opened, interrupting her mythology review.

"_Mother_," exclaimed her son Blaise from the doorway.

She sighed, even as she poured another bucket of water over her still-unnamed pet. It was always unpleasant to have her thoughts interrupted, but it was even worse when they were interrupted by that reproachful tone. "Yes, my son?"

"What the bloody hell are you doing? What—what is that _thing_?"

"This _thing_, as you so eloquently put it, is your new little brother."

"_Excuse me?_ Why would that monstrosity ever be in any way related to me?"

She gasped and covered its entire head with her arms and chest, not quite sure where its ears were. "Do not say that in front of your sibling!"

"Of all the—Mother, you have gone off the deep end ever since—oh, I cannot even talk to you seriously with that creature in your arms!"

With that, he slammed the bathroom door shut. She heard a couple of footsteps going away from the door, but then she heard another couple of footsteps coming back. "Wait. Why the hell are you _bathing_ it yourself? Can't the house-elves do it?"

"I used to bathe you all the time, Blaise," she said simply.

The footsteps hastily retreated from the door again.

* * *

At dinnertime, Blaise was sullenly pushing his peas around his plate, a frown etched permanently on his face.

Mrs Zabini stifled a sigh. There was no point in showing that she was upset; whenever Blaise saw that one was upset, he usually took that as his cue to withdraw even further. She knew him; she had raised him all these years, through good times and rough times.

And yet—well, there were certain aspects of him she would never understand, such as why he went above and beyond for his job when they had more than enough family funds to live comfortably for the rest of their lives. She supposed it was because of his pride; men did seem rather particular about appearances.

Ah, well. At least it provided for a ready source of dinner conversation. "So, Blaise, how was work today? Any interesting cases?"

He speared a couple of peas and put them in his mouth, chewing slowly and thoughtfully. "It is—sensitive. I do not really wish to discuss it."

His expression did not change from that frown, but she could hear the excitement in his trembling voice. Whatever the case was, he was really anxious about it. Perhaps that was why he had acted so dramatically upon meeting the new family pet.

She decided not to push the topic, however. If she continued to ramble on about inane subjects, eventually he would get so agitated that he would spill. He always did that with her; she was his agony aunt, after all.

So ramble she did, talking about the new sets of robes she bought this morning, the acquisition of the pet—which she had decided to name Alberta, invoking lots of protest from Blaise, who insisted it must have a masculine name—and then she finally brought up the subject of Mrs Bulstrode's unexpected visit.

"Oh, really? Mrs Bulstrode paid you a visit again? Whatever for?"

Alora narrowed her eyes slightly at her son, who was suddenly sitting straighter. "Because she wanted to discuss Millicent," she said carefully.

"Ah. I see."

There it was. The tense excitement was back. She now knew where to attack.

"Would your new case have anything to do with Millicent, by any chance?"

His eyes widened slightly, but he quickly schooled his features back into the original frown. "Of course not. It is just a sordid affair with which I do not wish to trouble you."

"Blaise."

He sighed, knowing as well as she did that she had perfected her tone of admonishment. "Terry Boot and Ginevra Weasley were caught _in flagrante delicto_, so to speak."

She knitted her eyebrows. "Although that is indeed shameful, why are you involved? People's sexual discretions are usually not covered in a barrister's line of work."

"Boot is part of the committee that chooses England's team for the Quidditch World Cup. Weasley is on a Quidditch team. Classic conflict of interest."

"Mm…that is a good point, but what is _your_ interest in all this?"

He stared at his plate, as if silently pleading for her not to push further.

She was already connecting the dots, however. "Wait. Terry Boot…is he not Millicent's boyfriend? I think I remember Catriona complaining about it once."

"Ex," Blaise mumbled. "She was the one who discovered it and filed the report."

Alora stared at him, her eyes widening. All these years, she had known her son as a flirt who never took any woman seriously, but here he was, his face darkening with ill-concealed rage about another man's infidelity towards her best friend's daughter.

"Blaise, what—"

He stood up. "Forget it. I never should have mentioned it. I am retiring early tonight, Mother."

She watched him beat a hasty retreat, suddenly wondering when her son had become a complete stranger.

* * *

The next morning, she was relaxing on the couch with Alberta on her lap, gently stroking its back. Blaise was in an armchair, sulking. She ignored him, because she knew that would make him more likely to talk.

For now, she focussed on Alberta. According to the handbook, these creatures really enjoyed displays of affection, especially considering the fact that they were often ostracised in society.

"Who's a good little pet? Who's a good little pet? Yes you are," she cooed, giving it a kiss just above its eye; it wriggled delightedly.

Blaise pointedly glanced at the clock, his eye twitching slightly. She hid her smirk with another kiss to Alberta's head; she knew she was going to win.

"Now, weren't we going to go out and shop for a new toy for you? We were, weren't we? Mumsy has lots of ideas," she purred, and Alberta snuggled closer.

Blaise abruptly stood up.

"Mother, that is _enough_. Please cease this unsightly behaviour immediately. Why did you acquire that thing, anyway? Am I not enough company for you?"

She glared at him over Alberta's head. "Quite frankly, no. You are always working overtime, and when you come home, you just eat quietly before running off to your private quarters without even asking how my day went or telling me about yours. I have to volunteer all the information and ask all the questions, and I am tired of it. I miss the Blaise who used to sit in my lap, kissing my cheek—"

"Mother, I am not a child anymore. I cannot sit on your lap forever, and I have to focus on my career."

"Why not quit your job? We do not need the income—"

"It is not about the money! It has never been about the money!"

"Then what has it been about?"

"Do not make me say it, Mother!"

She opened her mouth to demand that he say it, whatever _it_ was, but she looked at his face and saw his pained expression, so open and vulnerable.

"Fine. You have your reasons, and I suppose I should respect them, but please, can you at least make an effort to talk to me every once in a while? I do not want you to withdraw from me like Millicent seems to have withdrawn from her mother."

"What? She would never do that on purpose! She is not that inconsiderate."

Alora shrugged, hugging Alberta closer. "People rarely withdraw on purpose."

He stared at her and Alberta for long moments, and she half-expected him to start complaining about Alberta again, perhaps even demand that she somehow return Alberta to the store.

Instead, he moved closer and held out his arms. "May I hold Albert…a?"

She raised an eyebrow at the afterthought-syllable, but she let him hold the pet.

He cradled Alberta awkwardly. "This…this is really weird."

"But not absolutely abhorrent?"

"No," he conceded.

"Good."

"How long must I hold it?"

"Until I am satisfied with this mother-son bonding experience. Or until you tell me more about your apparent infatuation for Millicent."

"I think I shall just continue holding it, then."

"Fine by me."

After a while, however, Alberta started squirming, and Blaise struggled to hold onto it. It began drooling, and he yelped, hurriedly dumping it back onto Alora's lap. She rolled her eyes as she caught the pet.

"Well, then. I am definitely not satisfied."

He pulled out a handkerchief and started wiping his damp shoulder. "There's…there's really not much to say. I have had a crush on Millicent for a while, since after the war."

"Yet you did not at any point seduce her?" She narrowed her eyes doubtfully at him. "I thought you had inherited my genes."

"Boot got to her first," he mumbled.

She opened her mouth to comment that that should not have deterred him, but she remembered in time that she wanted to be supportive, not alienating.

"Well, here is your chance. He is more than out of the picture, and now you can go save her like a knight in shining armour."

He grimaced. "Please do not say that. It sounds so…_Gryffindor_."

She shrugged. "When it comes to seduction, one cannot afford to have such qualms."

"Mother, I do not think I wish to bond over my love life."

She smiled despite his words, because it was nice to hear exasperation from him rather than outright anger and pent-up frustration. They were making progress.

"Oh, fine. I will let you get off easy. Go do your barrister work. Alberta and I shall just enjoy the afternoon sunlight here."

He nodded and left the room.

When Alora was sure he was out of earshot, she gently set Alberta aside and summoned a parchment and quill.

She was not going to tell Catriona about Blaise's feelings for her daughter (that was his own affair, after all), but she was definitely going to inform her that she no longer had to worry about Terry Boot becoming her son-in-law.

She grinned at the thought of Catriona's impending reaction. Thank goodness they had just replenished their cake supply.

As she wrote, Alberta snuggled up next to her, and though Alora now dreamed of one day expanding her family to include the Bulstrodes, too, she was quite content with the family she had now.

The end.


End file.
